


she is love [she is all i need]

by pleaseletmetouchyourbutt



Series: It's You, It's You (Kat's Hinny Fics.) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, PTSD Harry, Wedding, i dunno, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleaseletmetouchyourbutt/pseuds/pleaseletmetouchyourbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is no secret that Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley. </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>How Harry Potter proposed to the girl that is the sun in his sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she is love [she is all i need]

**Author's Note:**

> ...
> 
> yep
> 
> ...

It is no secret that Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley. He cheers loudest at her Quidditch games and smiles brightest when she’s holding his hand. He is her biggest fan and she is one of his closest friends. Harry can’t count how many Daily Prophet front pages show a picture of the two of them, but he knows that in every single one he is staring adoringly at her and that doesn’t really change regardless of what setting they’re in.

The thing that’s changed is the weight in the pocket of his jeans.

It’s the middle of June, a few weeks before Harry’s 22nd birthday. They’re lounging on the grass in the garden of the Burrow, and Ginny’s head is resting on his stomach. Harry’s got his fingers in her hair and she is talking animatedly about something that happened at her Quidditch practice the week before.

The small, black box in his pocket feels as if it weighs 400 tonnes, as if Hagrid himself were sitting on his leg. His plan was to ask her today, to get down on one knee amongst the grass and ask her to marry him.

Something is stopping him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. There’s nothing he wants more. He’s just nervous, he supposes, because he is broken and he is still plagued by nightmares and Ginny is like the sun in a clear blue sky.

He skims a hand over her bare, freckled shoulder and catches the strap of her top with a finger, pulls it back into place. Her words stutter, and she glances up at him, smiling.

Ginny is a perfect, pure thing and Harry truly feels as if he is dragging her down.

Then he remembers teenaged Ginny, glaring so fiercely at him and snapping, “Lucky you.”

She has experienced hell and pain and suffering, the same as him. Ginny has been controlled by Voldemort; she is missing a sibling, and missing friends. Harry knows this.

He watches her speak, smile big and wide on her face. Maybe it isn’t that she is a pure thing in his dirty hands, but that she has seen the same horrors that he has and she does not seem nearly as broken as he is.

Ginny is so strong. She has picked herself up and put herself back together enough that she can comfort him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, terrified that she is dead and Voldemort is in their tiny flat.

She is so strong. She has been able to dust herself off and shines happiness into Harry with everything that she does.

Yes. That’s it. That’s why he can’t pull the ring out of his pocket and ask her to stay with him for the rest of their lives. It would feel selfish.

“Harry?” Her voice is like a song, and he looks at her, “You okay?”

He nods, runs his the backs of his fingers down her cheek, “Yeah.”

Ginny sits up, turns around on the grass to face him. She holds out her hands. He takes let, winds his fingers through hers.

“I love you,” He says, and she pauses, looks at him.

“I love you, too, you big sap,” She says, leans down to kiss him. She releases his hands and immediately snatches his glasses off of his face. His world goes blurry, but he can see her perch them on her own nose.

“Ho, ho, ho,” She says in a deep voice, “I’m Harry Potter.”

Harry laughs, reaches blindly for her face and ends up poking her in the nose.

She giggles, falls still and lets him remove the glasses. He puts them back on, blinks her into wonderful clarity again.

“Your mother is going to yell at us for lounging about,” Harry says, and both of his hands are cupping her face.

Ginny smiles, “Well, she’d be right.”

She stands, falling out of his grip, and she blocks the sun from his eyes. She is lit up around the edges, glowing.

He could do it now. He could pull the box from the pocket and just ask.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he takes the hand she offers him and lets her pull him to his feet. They set about doing what they were originally there to do, de-gnoming the garden.

Ginny doesn’t take de-gnoming very seriously. Most of the time, she sends the gnomes flying precariously close to Harry’s head, and laughs hysterically every time he stumbles and falls to avoid them.

When they’re finally finished her hair is a mess and she’s got dirt on her hands and dirt on her cheeks. The skin across her shoulders has been burnt pink by the sun, save for the white stripes where the straps of her top lay.

She holds his hand as they move into the cool, shady house. Mrs Weasley is placing a heaping pitcher of lemonade on the table and she beams at the two of them as they move into the kitchen.

“I really appreciate your help,” She says, turning back to the counter and scooping up a tray of sandwiches, far too many for the three of them.

“No problem, Mum,” Ginny says, dropping into a chair at the table, and Harry sits beside her, “Harry and I are both on our holidays from work, we might as well do something useful.”

Ginny pours two glasses of lemonade and slides one over to sit in front him. He drinks gratefully, and watches the two of them talk.

He almost asks her during every single break in their conversation, but doesn’t. He just rests his head on his hand and smiles whenever Ginny does.

They go home not long after, Apparating into the sitting room, where they have air conditioning and the air isn’t thick and muggy with summer heat. Harry stretches out on the sofa, feet hanging off the end, glasses discarded on the coffee table as he closes his eyes.

Music starts, upbeat and happy, and he opens his eyes. Ginny is pressing his glasses back into his hand, and he puts them on. She’s got the radio going, and tugs him up off the couch.

“Dance with me.”

He does, of course he does.

He holds her thin hands and spins her around the room while she laughs and her hair flies around her face. She clutches at his shoulders, pressing kisses to his jaw and his cheeks, pressing her mouth to his.

“Marry me,” He says, when she leans away, and her hands are tight on his arms, his hands locked up at the small of her back.

“Harry,” She says, quiet and in awe, “Really?”

He nods.

If marrying her is selfish, then Harry is going to be the most selfish man on the planet. Ginny is the sun he revolves around, the one who pulls him out of nightmares or memories. Ginny helps him with Teddy, and it’s really because of her that Remus’ son is so deliriously happy, living with Andromeda and growing up safe.

Ginny is home and happiness. Ginny is laughter and fun. Ginny is playful banter and a strong hand in his when he needs the support (which is seemingly always).

Harry may be broken but with Ginny he is not only broken but also happy. The light is no longer at the end of the tunnel; the light is surrounding him, all encompassing and warm.

The light is Ginny.

He pulls away, takes the box from his pocket and gets down on one knee.

He opens it.

The ring is simple, a thin gold band with small, swirling diamonds across the length of it.

She is crying, but she is nodding, and the ring fits her perfectly, just like her hands in his and the way she fits underneath his chin when he hugs her.

***

Her dress is simple white, with a pretty gold sash around her waist. Her hair is a waterfall of red curls around her face, and Harry does not wipe away the tears that track their way down his cheeks because they mirror her own.

Their family and friends watch as they exchange vows. They dance and dance and kiss and they smile and they laugh. Hermione cries and hugs them. Ron cries, too, but he hides it well.

Harry has lost people; friends and family and enemies, he has experienced it all. He has watched too many people die and cry because of things that were entirely his fault.

But this, this infectious happiness that seeps through the room with no discernable starting point, this proof that he has not lost it all, makes it all bearable.

Ginny, with her laugh and her hand in his, makes it all worth it, somehow. The pain he experienced, and the yearning for his parents to be there to see it all, is dulled by her radiance.

Ginny would call him a sap if he could hear all of the clichés he thinks about her, but he is sure, for once, that she knows exactly how he feels, because she loves him like he loves her. Ginny is by his side, and Ron and Hermione are safe, and the family he found in the Weasleys is unwavering, and Harry can breathe again.

\-----

Author’s Note: [This](http://dresseswed.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Simple-White-Wedding-Dresses-2.jpg) is Ginny’s wedding dress (plus the sash, of course) and [this](http://ipunya.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/simple-gold-engagement-ring-with-diamonds.jpg) is Ginny’s engagement ring.


End file.
